


Happy Deathiversary

by FleetSparrow



Category: Batman (Comics)
Genre: F/M, Gen, I've fallen and I can't get up, Mentions of canon character death, also this ship, little hint of maybe new romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-04-27
Updated: 2014-04-27
Packaged: 2018-01-21 02:47:53
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 563
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1534790
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/FleetSparrow/pseuds/FleetSparrow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Since returning to life, Jason has always "celebrated" the anniversary of his death alone.  Maybe this year, he won't have to.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Happy Deathiversary

**Author's Note:**

> Since it’s still April 27 here and since that’s the day Jason died, I thought I’d add my little attempt to the, uh, celebrations.
> 
> Mentions of canon character death

It wasn’t the kind of thing you wanted to celebrate. Hell, it wasn’t really a thing most people _did_ celebrate, on account of it usually being a one-time deal. Yet, here he was, Jason Todd, twenty-one, sitting in a lousy Gotham bar celebrating the anniversary of his death. Well, celebrating might be too nice of a word, but there’s just no pithy way to say “staring at a half-empty bottle of cheap beer because this year you’re gonna take it like a man instead of holing up in your safe house again”. So, yeah, he was celebrating.

Jason tucked himself further into the corner of his couch booth. Most people weren’t paying him too much attention anyway, and those that were seemed to know better than to engage him, even if he was taking up a space that could seat four. His whole damn aura said “no” and meant “no”. In truth, he wasn’t paying too much attention to the other patrons of the bar, either. Too wrapped up in his thoughts and old memories, he didn’t register the figure walking toward him until it sat down on the cushion beside him.

Woman. His age. Asian.

_Cass._

"Yours looks warm," she said, nudging his open beer with a fresh one.

He slumped back, petulantly _not_ taking the offered beer. ”Whaddyou want?”

"You’re alone. It’s a hard day. I thought you might like some company."

"Well, I don’t. So go away."

"No."

They sat in silence for a few moments, Cass watching him as she drank her… water— of course, a good Bat-child— while Jason actively avoided looking in her direction. After what felt like ages, she spoke again:

"I died, too. Twice."

Jason turned toward her automatically, eyes narrowing in suspicion. ”Are you serious?”

She nodded. ”It was short, though. Not like you. But I remember the… void.”

He stared at her, looking her over again and again without seeing her. ”Why’re you telling me? D’you think this is some kinda bonding trick?”

Cass shook her head. ”I’m the only one who knows. I’ve never told anyone else. Every year, I’m alone. Everyone knows when you died, but you’re still alone. I don’t think that’s fair.”

Jason dropped his gaze, chewing on a dry patch of skin on his lip. This was stupid. He didn’t need this kind of “siblings-in-death” sympathy, especially not today. But that’s not really what this felt like.

He leaned forward and grabbed the fresh beer she’d brought, downing a good third of it in one swallow before sitting back. ”That’s not fair to you, either,” he said, scooting over. He laid his arm over the back of the booth to show he still wasn’t giving up territory, just… opening it.

As soon as he was settled, Cass moved in to the spot he’d moved from, nestling between the booth and his torso. ”We came back. We should celebrate that.”

He took another drink, not sure if he was ready to respond to that, but Cass really didn’t seem bothered. They sat there in silence for a long moment, just watching the bar patrons move about. ”Yeah,” he said, finally. ”Happy Deathiversary.”

"Happy Life-iversary," Cass whispered, poking him lightly.

Jason laughed and shook his head, clinking their bottles together. ”Happy April 27. Middle ground.”

"I’ll drink to that."

Maybe it wasn’t such a bad thing to celebrate after all.


End file.
